I looked up and saw a round, pink face, with grey whiskers east and west of it, staring down from an upper window.
“Hi!” it shouted again.
“What the deuce do you mean by ‘Hi’?” I said.
“You can’t come in,” said the face. “Hello, is that Tootles?”
“My name is not Tootles, and I don’t want to come in,” I said. “Are you Mr. Medwin? I’ve brought back your son.”
“I see him. Peep-bo, Tootles! Dadda can see ’oo!”
The face disappeared with a jerk. I could hear voices. The face reappeared.
“Hi!”
I churned the gravel madly.
“Do you live here?” said the face.